


Melody

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-14 00:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21006989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Frodo performs for his empty house.





	Melody

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It starts with a gentle hum, then becomes a steady rhythm, and the next thing Frodo knows, he’s belting out the lyrics like he has an entire band behind him. Spring cleaning is a boring business, quite fussy, and requires entertainment. Frodo is his own entertainment. He’s learned a number of foreign songs from Bilbo over the many years, but he’s fallen out of practice with most, and every so often, it’s nice to run through them all and refresh his memory. He can still picture Bilbo sitting by the fire, sometimes softly whistling, other times merrily roaring. Bilbo always had a thing for dwarves, and he used to say dwarves rarely did anything quiet. The songs that Frodo knows from them are boisterous and bawdy. He personally prefers the Elvish ones, artistic and tragic, which Bilbo knew plenty of too, and those are what Frodo cycles through as he sorts through old coats and moves the armchair to sweep behind. Bag End is a dusty mess, but he’ll have it all right as rain in no time.

He clears everything off the large rug in the sitting room—another present from visiting dwarves. It takes a bit of effort to roll up, and his singing suffers when he has to try and hike it over his shoulder. It’s heavy, but he manages. He drags it to the window, huffing, puffing, and singing anyway. When he gets there, he rolls it out, meaning to shake the dirt and grime away.

He just barely misses Sam, who swiftly steps out of the way, garden sheers in hand and body half turned towards the roses. Frodo instantly cuts off and greets, “Oh, hello, Sam. I didn’t realize you were still out here.”

“A lot to be doing, Mr. Frodo,” Sam returns, his cheeks lightly flushed, maybe from the warm sun. It’s a beautiful day, free of any real clouds. Sam looks like he’s enjoying his gardening well enough. 

Frodo experiences a twinge of guilt and says, “I’m sorry. Here I’ve been bellowing like a loon, with the window open the whole time, and here you’ve been having to listen.”

Sam’s eyes go a little wide. He insists, “Oh no, Mr. Frodo! It was quite lovely!”

Of course Sam would say that; he’s terribly kind. “That’s good of you to say, but I know I’ve been rather loud.”

Sam shakes his head, “No, truly. It was my pleasure to hear.”

Now Frodo might be the one blushing. It doesn’t help that almost all the songs were foreign, and foreign things don’t usually do well about the Shire. Sam couldn’t have recognized any of those tunes. Half curious, Frodo asks, “Really?”

“Mhm.” Sam nods. “To be honest, Mr. Frodo... I used to hear you sing when I was young—when I’d leave my window open at night, and Mr. Bilbo would be bringing you home, and you’d sing all along the trail.”

Frodo’s cheeks flush dark. He can’t help murmuring, “I’d forgotten. How embarrassing...”

“No, I always used to love those nights. I reckon you have the best voice in all the Shire.”

Frodo blinks, then laughs, because Sam really is too good to him. The whole _Shire_. To Sam, that may as well be the whole world. Frodo sighs, “You really are too sweet to me.”

“And you would be too sweet if you kept singing to me.” As soon as Sam’s spoken, he hurriedly corrects, “Around me.” Frodo’s smiling so wide that it’s starting to hurt his cheeks. 

He asks, “Is there anything in particular you’d like to hear?”

Sam thinks a moment, then says, “Something elfish?”

Frodo thinks of a good tune while he shakes out the rug, then resumes his song.


End file.
